


When the Sun Sets

by KittenkatJNR



Series: The Adventures of Harry and his Ghost Dad, Reggie [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: ...?, Crack Treated Seriously, Dark Harry, Gen, Harry and Reggie are freckle buddies now oops, Harry can see a ghost, Harry can see ghosts, Harry is Done™, He adopts everybody, He becomes light again later, I swear, I will add tags as I go, Master of Death Harry Potter, Maybe - Freeform, Murder is not ok, Necromancer Harry Potter, OC for plot reasons, POV Harry Potter, POV Regulus Black, Regulus Black has freckles and you can fight me on that, Regulus Black is a ghost, Regulus has a problem when it comes to adopting kids, Theo is a parkour master guys, Welll, Wrong Boy-Who-Lived, Wrong Child-Who-Lived, bc i feel like that's what it is, clichés everywhere, i'm tagging this as, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-12 00:59:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 15,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11726223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittenkatJNR/pseuds/KittenkatJNR
Summary: Juliette Lily Potter is hailed the girl-who-lived and her brother, Harry, is sent to live his relatives, the Dursleys.(This started as me trying to do a new take on Harry Potter cliches but it's turned into me throwing Regulus Black's Ghost at people. No regrets.)





	1. How to Fail at Killing Children by Your Resident Dark Lord, Voldemort

Harry James Potter and Juliette Lily Potter, twins, sit together in a small, wooden crib. Harry, older by six minutes, gurgles loudly and pats his sister’s face. Juliette, upset by this, smacks him as hard as a one-and-a-half-year-old can.

In the other room, Peter Pettigrew sits. Peter isn’t much, too scrawny and cowardly, but he _is_ good with kids. Which is why, when the Potter parents head out to eat for the night, he’s the one asked to babysit. He goes through his regular duties with both children, killing time and shoving his guilt to the side.

A knock startles him from his thoughts and he forcibly shoves any misgivings out of his mind. He opens the door and scrambles into a low bow. “My Lord.”

The man, known only as Voldemort, sniffs in disdain. “Rise, Wormtail. You’ve done enough groveling for tonight.” Peter does as told and begins to lead Voldemort through the Potter household.

Up the stairs, past unmoving photographs of a smiling family, into a small bedroom.

Now, had Voldemort been a wiser man (maybe one not so broken as he), he may have noticed the chill he got from being in the room. May have acknowledged it as something other than the cold fall air and considered its origins may be more malevolent.

But, Voldemort is neither wise nor sane and, as any who have met him will say, his pride would never allow him to consider anything a threat.

He stares consideringly at both children. One, a bright-eyed and dark-haired child, stares him down in a way… unbefitting of one so young. The stare chills him more than the fall air and so he turns to the next child.

The opposite of her brother, Juliette is light-haired and dark-eyed and sobbing. 

Voldemort has three options here. One, kill the boy with the unnerving (almost killing curse green) eyes. Two, kill the girls and stop the annoying, hiccuping sobs coming from her. Three, leave now and pretend the prophecy never happened.

Of course, in Voldemort’s eyes, there’s only one answer. So, he turns and points his wand at the boy. He hesitates for all of a second, wondering if he’s making the right choice (a part of him- some deeply buried part- screams that he’d never hurt a child and that he never should’ve stooped this low, but that part is quickly silenced by a sharp hiss from the actual body holding the wand). 

“Avada Kedavra,” is said, almost reverently, by the Dark Lord. The spell hits its mark and he assumes his job is done. This is proven to be wrong when the light shoots itself towards its castor.

“Wait-” his cry is cut off by his own death- bright and painful and _burning_. 

A hooded figure watches from a dark corner, smiles, and then disappears from view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> October 8, 2018 EDIT: This chapter is now at about 500 words (shorter than it originally was, but written a bit better (I think)). Nothing has changed plotwise and nothing should for any of these edits. Thank you for reading!


	2. How to Incorrectly Determine Your Savior by Albus Dumbledore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time: Peter Pettigrew is a terrible babysitter and Voldemort thinks killing infant children will solve his life's problems.

Dumbledore, a man of many ( _many_ ) titles, finds himself at a loss. Two children, both marked, sit before him as their parents wait impatiently for an answer. The girl bleeds sluggishly from a snake-shaped wound on her head, bright blood drips slowly down a chubby face and she sobs.

The boy, on the other hand, has a lightning bolt cut on his head. He’s not in pain if the silence is anything to go by, but he looks slightly dazed.

Only one way to choose. Dumbledore closes his eyes and trusts his gut instincts when they lead his hand to a head of soft hair. He looks and blinks gently at the girl sitting beneath his wrinkled hand. 

“This one,” he says, lifting her up, “she’s our savior.”

James rushes forward and grabs his daughter happily, tears streaming down his face. He hugs her close and buries his face in her hair. “I love you,” he whispers to the child, “I love you _so damn much_ ”

Lily, while ecstatic for Juliette’s continued survival, looks around Dumbledore for Harry. When she sees him, she lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and scoops him up quickly. Seeing the collapsed house, she had feared for the worst, but now she stares at her living children and can’t help but favor the youngest for giving her the opportunity to hold them both once more.

Lily and James are lead by Dumbledore to the nearest floo network and sent to his warm office.

He sits, nodding at the chairs in front of him.

Together, they sit in silence for almost an hour. When it’s broken, though, Lily wishes it had lasted.

“Where shall we be sending Harry?” Dumbledore asks, steepling his hands under his chin in thought.

“Excuse me?” Lily hisses lightly, insulted by the implication she’d abandon her _child_.

James, too, looks offended at the idea and glares at Dumbledore. “No.”

Dumbledore frowns at their responses and then looks pleadingly to James. “You must understand, James,” he says, “Juliette will need special training and Harry will become jealous. Why let that happen when you can send him to someone who will be able to care for him?”

Her husband, stupid as he can be sometimes, doesn’t look convinced. “This is ridiculous,” he growls, “they’re _children_ , Dumbledore! Why can’t they just be that?”

The headmaster blinks sadly at the two of them, “will you really be responsible for a child being treated as _less_ than his sibling? You saw what that did to Sirius.”

“We wouldn’t-” James starts.

“You would. You already _are_ , James. It’s for the best.”

And James, stupid, lovable James, slumps in his seat and buries his face in his daughter’s face once again.

Lily, on the other hand, doesn’t want to back down from this. “Absolutely not! I’m not handing my child off to be raised by some _stranger_ -”

“Not a stranger, Lily,” Dumbledore smiles, “your sister.”

Which is… both better and worse. She knows Petunia, knows what she thinks of magic and, by extension, Harry. But… she _knows_ Petunia, which means she’ll know where Harry is after he’s gone.

Lily chews lightly on her lower lip and walks off to write a letter.

 _“Dear Petunia,”_ it reads, _“despite our lack of contact over the years, I feel you’re the only one I can turn to in these trying times. My son, Harry, is a wonderful boy, but… I fear I can no longer take care of him. I trust you to not only take him in but to also raise him into a model citizen. Once he starts at Hogwarts, I’ll be glad to take him back. For now, though, we must part ways._

_Your sister,  
Lily.”_

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Petunia Dursley, upon reading the letter and finding the napping child on her doorstep, decides to take the child in as requested (if only to increase her neighborhood standing). 

She locks him in the cupboard like the animal he is and leaves him in there until his cries can be heard throughout the neighborhood. 

_Oh well,_ she thinks, _guess I can’t let it starve._

And thus sets the tone for the next ten years of Harry Potter’s life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> October 8, 2018 EDIT: This ends the chapter replacements, but some chapters will be rewritten a bit for consistency's sake and I'll try to remember to update on Saturdays.


	3. Snakes are my Worst Nightmare and I Hope They all Burn by Dudley Dursley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Time: Dumbledore picks the savior of the wizarding world with his eyes closed, Lily and James fight to keep Harry for like .2 seconds, and Petunia sucks at raising children

Dudley Dursley's eleventh birthday was today and literally only four people were excited about it; Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, Dudley's "friend" Piers Polkiss, and Dudley himself. 

Dudley's cousin, Harry, was decidedly not excited and for good reason. Dudley's birthday meant Harry would have to spend the day with Mrs. Figg. On one hand, Mrs. Figg was actually pretty nice to Harry but her house smelled like cabbage. _Cabbage_. That and those pesky _things_ (They weren't cats, calling them cats would be an insult to Fluffy from next door) around her house. Harry was willing to swear on the one book he had hidden in his cupboard that they were much smarter than they let on. 

Luckily (unluckily) Mrs. Figg broke her leg tripping over one of the creatures around the house and, left with no other option, the Dursley's were forced to take Harry to the zoo with them. 

The car ride there was an absolute mess. First, Dudley and Piers were very insistent on poking him to death (poking. Why poking?) and then he got yelled at for having his own opinions on Uncle Vernon's angry ranting (it's not like it's his fault he has weird dreams). The rest of the ride followed the same pattern throughout; get poked in the side/face/arm, and get yelled at for existing.

The zoo itself was much better, Dudley and Piers were so distracted by the animals that they left Harry alone for the majority of the trip.

Then came the reptile house.

Dudley and Piers had both been complaining because "the animals are sooooo boring" and "they're not deadly enough" (to which Harry had mentally pointed out the hippos), so they dragged the group off to the reptile house where Dudley and Piers went to the deadliest looking thing in the place; a boa constrictor of all things. Both boys got bored, of course, when the snake just slept through their yelling and they eventually wandered off to the more active creatures.

Harry, for some godforsaken reason, felt the need to apologize to the poor snake.

"Look," Harry starts, hesitating slightly, "I'm sorry. Dudley and Piers have no respect."

The snake raised its head at Harry and then winked.

"Can you understand me?"

The snake dips its head in a, very formal looking, nod.

"Ah, so either you speak English or I speak snake. You wouldn't happen to know which, would you?"

The snake nods again and begins speaking, "You're speaking the snake language, young one."

Harry nods and then he's suddenly staring up at his cousin who's apparently pushed him over in his rush to get a good look at the snake.

"Mum! Dad! Look what the Snake's doing!"

Harry himself doesn't think a snake wiggling it's head around while it lies on a rock is entirely interesting. Maybe it's just a Dudley thing.

He's staring at the glass of the cage, wishing he could help the poor snake escape his cousin's peering face when, suddenly, the glass disappears. Harry's seen some weird things in his life, but none so weird as the glass on a snake exhibit disappearing.

The snake slithers by and pauses for a second, "Thanks," it hisses before continuing on its way.

Well, at least it had manners. 

Unlike his uncle who is, for lack of a better term, waddling angrily towards Harry. Vernon's face changes quickly between red and white and, for a second, Harry is worried he might have a stroke. Then Harry kind of wishes Vernon would have a stroke because if Vernon's in the hospital then nobody except Petunia will be around to punish Harry and she always lets him off lightly. Or, he might get blamed for the stroke and in even more trouble than he's in right now.

A few hours later and Harry is squished uncomfortably in his cupboard and the rest of the household is watching some movie and eating the cake Petunia put together for Dudley. The spider in the corner is still and curled in on itself, leaving Harry to miss its silent company. He reaches out to move it from its spot and bury it in the piles of stuff he can no longer wear as a way of saying thanks. As soon as he reaches out and touches it though, it springs back to life. Harry's breath catches in his throat when it begins moving around its web. 

Maybe he had been wrong and the spider wasn't dead. Except... Harry's seen enough dead spiders in his life to know whether or not this one was dead and it most certainly was dead. 

Nothing should be able to bring back the dead. 

He must've been wrong about it being dead, there's no other explanation. The dead don't just come back to life like that. 

Thoughts settled for the moment, Harry Potter falls asleep on the lumpy mattress in the cupboard under the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would ya look at this- it's my longest chapter yet! I wanted to write more but I couldn't find a good way to continue onto Harry's birthday without it sounding awkward, y'know? 
> 
> Also, I was asked to start putting my author's notes at the end instead of the beginning, so that's where they'll be from now on.
> 
> Uhhhhh Sorry for the wait between chapters? I would've updated last night but I just about fell asleep on my computer so... yeah. Anyway! You've got an update now, so I hope you enjoy it or something.


	4. Ghosts are Friends, not Food by Harry Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Time: Harry has some conversations with a snake buddy and gets locked in the cupboard.

The school year ended before Harry was let back out of the cupboard with a harsh whisper of "behave yourself" from Aunt Petunia. He did, for the most part, behave himself. The chores were finished and the food was cooked but behaving meant he had little to no free time on any given day. 

On this particular day, Harry had finished repainting the fence and pruning the bushes. All that was left was to tend to the garden. The garden was Aunt Petunia's pride and joy (discounting the fact that Harry did all of the work for said garden) and she loved showing it off to the neighbors when they came for tea (Mrs. Number Eight and Mrs. Number Twelve, to be specific) or their book club (which was not, in fact, a book club but a meeting used to gossip about whatever unfortunate woman hadn't shown up that week). 

Harry, of course, also took great pride in the garden. It was his favorite chore besides cooking, it was simple and repetitive so he had time to think and the results from the gardening itself were always beautiful. The garden was one of the reasons he wasn't locked in the cupboard for too long. Aunt Petunia had the opposite of a green thumb, every plant she's ever attempted to grow has died almost instantly which means, despite her dislike of him, Harry is the only person she trusts to take care of the garden.

This leads to, if Harry's being completely honest, one of the weirdest things he's ever experienced (including the spider he brought back to life but he's steadfastly ignoring the fact that it was dead in the first place).

Harry Potter sits, weeding his aunt’s garden, when he hears a startled grunt next to him. He turns and looks at the man who made the noise.

The man is tall and thin, black hair falls just below his ears and piercing grey eyes stare directly at Harry. He has freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose and is extremely pale. He’s also dripping with water.

Harry worries for a second that the water will get all over Aunt Petunia’s new flowers and drown them but then he sees that the water, while still dripping from the man in front of him, isn’t actually getting anything wet. The man isn’t leaving a shadow either.

He feels uncomfortable with the idea of speaking to the man but Harry is even more uncomfortable with the silence, so he begins, “Um, excuse me, sir?”

The man jolts, almost as if he doesn’t expect to be spoken to at all.

“Yes?” He asks, head tilted slightly to the side. His stare is unnerving and Harry kind of wishes he hadn’t said anything at all.

“Who are you?” The man is silent once again, almost as if he’s pondering the question.

Finally, the man smiles. “My name,” he says, “is Regulus Black."

The man- Regulus, apparently- is still dripping water and Harry is still kind of thrown off by the amount of it and the fact that it's not getting all over the garden.So, Harry stands and gestures for him to follow (hopefully Regulus Black isn't a murderer but if he is then maybe, just maybe, the Dursley's will be dead and Harry can leave). 

At first, he's concerned that the water is going to drip all over Aunt Petunia's hardwood flooring but, as it had been earlier, the water still doesn't actually touch anything except Black. The two make their way to the bathroom where Harry offers Black a towel to dry off with, the gesture appears to make Black uncomfortable because he gets a look on his face (not the disgusted ones Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon make when Dudley mentions some magic fantasy game, but the look Aunt Petunia gets when her sister is mentioned by anyone other than Harry).

"Ah," Black starts awkwardly, "I don't know if I can touch that."

Harry raises an eyebrow in question because the towel is clean (of course it is, he had to wash it this morning) and it certainly doesn't look like the Black is unable to pick up objects.

"Not for the reasons you're thinking, I'm sure," he smiles. 

"Then why?"

Black looks like he wants to fidget but thinks better of it, "I- You see, the last memory I have is of dying. So, either I'm a ghost or this is some weird version of- what was it? Heaven."

Dying. That's not possible ( _neither is talking to snakes,_ a voice whispers). Harry opens his mouth to say just that but is interrupted.

"Impossible. I know," Black hurries, "It's true, though. I drowned-" his voice cuts off suddenly as he flinches. Drowning is a painful memory, Harry assumes. 

"Boy!" Aunt Petunia's sharp voice cuts through his thoughts and Harry hurries to put the towel away, "What are you doing?"

"Washing my hands, Aunt Petunia."

She opens the door, as if to check that he actually is washing his hands, and nods sharply. Her eyes pass over Black like he isn't there and, okay, Harry can ignore the lack of shadows and the water that doesn't actually hit anything but Aunt Petunia would never stand for having a strange man in the house, especially not one that's dripping wet.

This, of course, leaves only one conclusion; Black is telling the truth, he really must be a ghost of some sort. If that's true, then why can't Aunt Petunia see him? 

"Well," Aunt Petunia sniffs like Harry isn't having an existential crisis right in front of her, "Be ready to start dinner in an hour," and she's gone.

Black seems to have gotten over his flashback from earlier and is now smiling cheekily down at Harry from his position on the counter, "Well," he grins, "That was an experience."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh I love Regulus Black so much because he has like zero characterization so I can do just about anything I want with him and that makes me happy. He's gonna be the mom friend, just you wait. Also- I don't know why I gave him freckles but I wrote it out, thought about it and decided I loved it jfc Regulus Black with freckles gives me life damn it.
> 
> New longest chapter for this story is here! Idk how long it is, my document said 973 and my editor said 1014 so....
> 
> Oh well.
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr: https://lincolndid911.tumblr.com/
> 
> like, I don't know why you would... I barely post. But, Hey! If you want to send in fanart or an ask you can find me there. I also posted a preview of this chapter there and one for a future chapter. The blog is mainly used for storing stuff somewhere my phone won't lose it if it decides Factory Reset is a valid way of killing itself. 
> 
> Anyway, Until next time (hopefully that isn't too far away but you never know so.... Y'know...)


	5. Adopting Children 101 by Regulus Black's Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Time: Regulus Black is a ghost and Harry doesn't want water all over the floor, thank you very much.

Regulus Black has seen and done many things in his life as a wizard, but appearing in a stranger's (a muggle's) garden in the middle of the day was a first. The first thing he noticed about the boy next to him was his hair because that is Potter hair if he's ever seen it. Next are the eyes, they're terrifying and beautiful at the same time, just like a spell of the same color. The boy is short (seven, eight years old?) and thinner than Regulus can remember any child ever being. The boy looks startled when he asks for Regulus' name and Regulus is kind of startled himself because this kid obviously isn't a muggle if he can see him.

They wind up in a bathroom because the kid's nice enough to try and help Regulus dry off (even though he's a stranger and not actually dripping wet) and Regulus is sitting on the edge of the sink grinning at the kid.

"Mr. Black-"

Alright, that is not going to become a thing, "Regulus. Mr. Black is my father. Or my brother, depending on who you like more."

The boy eyes him warily, "Regulus, then. Why are you here?"

That's a good question, he supposes, "No clue. I just kind of appeared in your garden."

"Well, in that case, you might want to leave. My aunt and uncle would kill me if they found out I let a ghost in the house."

Regulus frowns at hearing that, sure the muggles would probably freak out (if they could see him, that is) but getting the kid in trouble for it wouldn't do them any good. It sounds a lot like something his brother would've said about their parents. Speaking of parents, "Where are your parents, kid?"

The kid shrugs, "Dead, I guess. That's what Aunt Petunia says, Uncle Vernon says they abandoned me."

That's kind of depressing, to be honest. Depressing and horribly blunt, "Alright, I guess. Thanks- Ah. I never got your name."

"I never gave it to you."

Regulus snorts (his mother would've killed him for that if he was still alive) loudly at that response and ruffles the kid's hair, "I'll catch you later then, kid."

The kid rolls his eyes and then Regulus is gone, trying to find Sirius.

He finds him. Sirius is smiling and eating dinner with the Potters, his hair is pulled out of his face and he seems to be teasing a girl with Lily's red hair.

"C'mon, kiddo! You know, your dad and I used to do stuff like that all the time when we were younger, it about gave his mom a heart attack."

"Uncle Siri-"

"Which is why she won't be doing it, Sirius Black," the woman who comes in the room is, without a doubt, Lily Potter. She hasn't changed much since graduation, still as tall and fiery as ever.

"Aw, come on, Lils!"

Lily rolls her eyes at him and continues to her seat.

Regulus doesn't want to interrupt their dinner, he really doesn't, but he'll be in more trouble if they find him standing there watching them.

"Hey, Sirius," he waves at his older brother.

"You're a mess, Sirius," says James Potter, smiling. Nobody acknowledges Regulus Black's ghost, not Lily, James, or Sirius. The girl at the table (Lily and James' daughter?) shows no reaction either, just continues eating. Regulus waves a hand in front of his brother's face and is ignored again. 

Sirius was always bad at ignoring anybody, especially Regulus. If he's not even responding, then that must mean he can't even see Regulus in the first place.

Regulus doesn't expect that to hurt as much as it does, doesn't expect the empty feeling he gets looking at the only family he has left. His parents wouldn't take him back (are they even still alive?) and Sirius either can't see him or is ignoring him completely.

Maybe he should go back to that kid in the muggle house. Regulus will feel bad asking but the kid might be able to pass on a message to Sirius for him.

So he thinks of the muggle house and imagines himself back there. It works, Regulus finds himself back in the garden, watching the kid sit outside and shiver.

"Why are you sitting out here?"

The kid looks up, visibly startled, "Why'd you come back?"

Regulus narrows his eyes at the evasion but answers anyway, "My brother couldn't see me," a beat and then, "You didn't answer my question."

"I know," the kid shrugs at him then sighs, "My name is Harry Potter."

"Harry _Potter_?"

The kid- Harry Potter, of all people- nods at him, "That's right."

Regulus thinks he might pass out for a second (can ghosts pass out? He'll have to look into that), "So, Harry Potter, why are you out here in the cold?"

Harry shrugs, arms wrapped around himself in an attempt to keep warm, "I burned some of the potatoes while I was cooking, so I got sent outside."

Taking a peek in the window, Regulus sees a family sitting around the table eating. The man is easily the size of a young whale, the son not far behind. The woman, on the other hand, is a literal stick as far as Regulus is concerned.

"Don't you get dinner?"

"Probably not. I got lucky and the gave me lunch today, so I'll be fine until tomorrow."

That rubs Regulus the wrong way and he contemplates attempting to set them on fire with his mind. Harry had said he was lucky and got lunch today, what about the other days? This was unacceptable, feeding their whale son and then not feeding their nephew who obviously needed to eat more because Merlin that kid is tiny.

Being a ghost means there isn't actually anything he can do, though. So, Regulus Black sits next to Harry Potter and waits for the back door to open once again.

Regulus may be dead but that doesn't mean he's going to let this child go without some positive adult figure in his life. His friends always did say he was too much of a mother at heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter from Regulus' point of view because I love him. 
> 
> Also, I updated two days in a row and this is the new longest chapter yet!?!? It's a miracle!  
> This chapter ends at 1030 words according to my writing program, so hooray!
> 
> Poor, poor Reggie can't talk to his brother but it's okay because he gets to be Harry's Ghost Dad™
> 
> See ya next time!


	6. Running Away from my Bad Life Decisions and not Living Under a Bridge by Harry Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Time: Regulus misses his brother but adopts Harry so all is well.

The rest of dinner passes by in a kind of daze for Harry. Regulus had become much more talkative after finding out who he was and its kind of awkward. Harry isn’t used to adults actually sitting down and speaking with him, especially adults who have better things to be doing. 

When Aunt Petunia finally lets him back in the house it’s because Dudley and Uncle Vernon have gone to bed already and she’s feeling generous tonight. He nods, happy to be allowed in out of the cold, and follows her to his cupboard.

“If I find out you so much as stepped a toe out of your cupboard…” She lets the threat hang in the air knowing that the fear will get Harry more than an actual punishment will.

“Yes, Aunt Petunia.”

Regulus frowns at her in a way that says he’s not pleased. He crosses his arms over his chest and begins clenching and unclenching his fists. As soon as Aunt Petunia had locked Harry in the cupboard and gone to bed for the night, Regulus spoke, “Why are you sleeping in a cupboard?” His voice is a kind of low growl and Harry isn’t quite sure who he's mad at.

“It’s just my bedroom.”

Harry could hear Regulus begin pacing outside the cupboard door and mutter under his breath, “ridiculous, of all the things… Can’t believe they would-” and on and on for a few minutes in which Harry almost fell asleep. Suddenly, Regulus speaks to Harry again, “Can you get out of there?”

Harry nods before remembering that Regulus can’t see him through the door, “Yes, but you heard Aunt Petunia-”

“That’s fine. We’re leaving. Pack your stuff and come out here.”

For all of a second, Harry considers ignoring him, but Regulus hasn’t done anything untrustworthy so far and the idea of leaving (it doesn’t matter where, they could go and live under a bridge for all he cared) excites him. So, Harry packs what he has, his single book and his clothes, and slowly opens the cupboard door.

Regulus looks at him for a second and then nods resolutely, “Follow me.”

So he does, out the front door and through the neighbors’ yards. They don’t walk long, just to the park a few blocks away, before Regulus stops him again.

“I’m going to try something, alright? It’ll be a little weird and I don’t know if it will work at all, so just bear with me.”

Harry nods his consent and Regulus adopts a look of deep concentration onto his face. He reaches out and grabs Harry’s arm, still concentrating and then they’re gone. Harry wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, it had been like being squeezed through a small tube or a straw, and then they were standing in a completely different area.

Regulus is panting and flickering slightly, whatever he had done had taken a toll on him and it took him a minute to recover.

“This,” he says, pointing to the middle house, “is my old home. Number twelve Grimmauld place. Usually, you wouldn’t be able to see it at all, but as of right now nobody’s kept the wards up so you should be okay to go in.”

Shifting awkwardly, Harry looks at Regulus in a silent plea. A plea for what exactly, he isn’t sure but it certainly felt like he was asking for something.

Regulus seems to understand though because he smiles and walks forward to lead Harry into Grimmauld place. 

Harry grimaces when he catches sight of the door, it’s covered in peeling paint and looks like a strong wind might knock it off its hinges. The inside of the house isn’t much better, it’s covered in dust and old books. Papers litter the floor along with broken glass and Harry’s sure he saw a rusty kitchen knife somewhere in the mix.

“It’s not in the best condition,” Regulus looks like he wants to turn tail and run, “but it’ll do for now. At least until we can find someplace better.”

A curtain at the end of the hall burst open and a woman’s voice began screeching at them, “FILTHY BLOOD-TRAITOR COMING BACK INTO MY HOUSE AFTER I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE-” she stops suddenly as she catches sight of Harry.

“Hello, Ma’am?”

“Child,” she sniffs in a way befitting of nobility, like she thinks she’s better than him.

“Tell her I sent you,” says Regulus, “I was always her favorite.”

“Regulus sent me,” he says, “er- his ghost did, I mean.”

The woman looks shocked for all of a second before composing herself again, “Well, I don’t suppose you have proof, do you?”

Harry looks to Regulus for advice again, “Regulus?” 

“Who are you talking to, boy?” The woman sounds harsh and angry, Harry only blinks before looking back at Regulus.

“I was asking Regulus for proof.”

“Well! Bring him here, then!”

Harry awkwardly shrugs at her, “He said nobody else can see him.”

Regulus walks up next to Harry, in front of the painting and stares at his mother hopefully.

“Where is he?”

Harry points to where Regulus is standing, “Right there, ma’am.”

The portrait woman frowns at him, then at the spot he pointed at. She sniffs at him again, “I don’t see anything,” her voice sounds haughty once more, above him.

“Tell her that when I was nine I turned father’s hair orange because he wouldn’t talk the headmaster into letting me go to Hogwarts early."

He repeats what he’s been told and the portrait woman looks slightly less snooty than she did before, “I suppose you must be telling the truth, then. What’s your name, child?” Her voice is still harsh and Harry begins to wonder if she’s doing it on purpose or if that’s just how she is.

“Harry Potter.”

She blinks in an almost surprised manner before turning to Regulus, “I may not be able to see you Regulus Black but rest assured you are in trouble, young man! A Potter, of all the things to bring into Grimmauld place, you bring a Potter!”

Harry isn’t sure whether he should be offended or not so he settles for watching Regulus attempt to stutter answers at the woman.

“He says he couldn’t just leave me with the muggles. What’s a muggle?”

The portrait suddenly looks horrified, “Muggles! You were living with muggles? This is a disgrace, a scandal-”

Harry tunes her out, waiting for her to get over whatever issue she has with him being raised by muggles or whatever.

Regulus looks at Harry and sighs, “a muggle is someone who doesn’t have magic Like I do, like you do. Your relatives are muggles.”

“Magic?”

“That transportation thing I did earlier, we were in the park one second and outside Grimmauld place the next. Stuff like that is magic but that’s much more advanced than anything you’ll learn for quite a while.”

“That sounds awesome-”

“If you’re done,” the portrait’s voice interrupts their conversation, “My name is Walburga Black, you may call me Grandmother.”

Just as Harry opens his mouth to ask why, Regulus stops him, “Just go with it, Harry. She’ll never let it go otherwise.” Harry nods.

“Good,” she sniffs, “Kreacher!”

A- what is that thing, a bat?- thing appears, “Yes, Mistress?” it says.

“Show the boy to Regulus’ room. Clean it out if you must, he’ll be staying here for a while.”

Regulus frowns at her, “We can’t stay here for long,” he explains, “Sirius, my older brother, owns the house now and if we stay too long he’ll find you and I’m not sure what he’d do if he did.”

The creature- “A house elf,” Regulus tells him gently when Harry asks- leads him upstairs to a room that, unlike the rest of the house, is perfectly clean. There isn’t a speck of dust to be seen and not an object on the floor. The bed is made and the books ordered on the shelves, giving it a happier atmosphere than the rest of the house.

The house elf leaves and Regulus nudges Harry gently toward the bed, “Go to sleep, kid, we have a lot of work to do tomorrow.”

So, Harry Potter falls asleep to the sound of Regulus humming and pipes creaking in number twelve Grimmauld place, happier than he’s been in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys
> 
> GUYS
> 
> THE CHAPTERS KEEP GETTING LONGER AND IDK WHAT TO DO 
> 
> LIKE
> 
> THE LAST ONE WAS 1030 WORDS AND THIS ONE IS OVER 1300 SO LIKE IDKKKK
> 
> AND I'VE UPDATED THREE DAYS IN A ROW WTF
> 
> Don't expect it to keep happening though, no matter how much I enjoy writing I've never been able to write very long chapters or write consistently. 
> 
> On another note, in the original outline for the story, Harry would've been at Hogwarts by now but apparently adding in a Ghost Dad™ yanks the timeline out of place because they gotta make sure their child is alright.
> 
> So, new side plot where Harry runs away with Regulus and the fic gets longer. I have no clue when he's actually going to get his Hogwarts letter tbh, like, I know what I want to happen but I'm not sure when we'll get there exactly.
> 
> Quick question: Should I keep this all in one fic or should I make it into a series and do a fic for every year? I'm not sure which so if somebody could tell me what they'd prefer I would appreciate that a lot.


	7. Ditching Your Mother and Other Fun Pastimes by Regulus Black, Master Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Time: Regulus runs away with Harry to Grimmauld Place where they meet Walburga Black and Kreacher

Regulus is loathe to wake Harry up because, despite what his mother will say, he believes children should be allowed to sleep in as long as they don't have anything to do that day. This, like most of his ideas, is contradicted by his mother. This time she sends Kreacher in to wake Harry up.

There's a quiet grumbling under the sheets that has Regulus huffing out a laugh and Kreacher leaving to finish making breakfast. Harry is up and glaring at the corner where the house elf had been.

"Don't blame him, he's just following orders."

This doesn't make Harry any happier but he manages to drag himself out of bed anyway. Regulus resists the urge to hug Harry (honestly, who gave him the right to be so adorable?) and instead points him to the wardrobe.

"This is full of my old clothes," he says, "the one's from when I was about your age anyway. This other one, over here, is my clothes from right before I died."

Harry nods and then shoos him from the room so he can get dressed in peace. Regulus rolls his eyes but let's him have his privacy.

When Harry emerges, fully dressed, it's time for them to head down to breakfast. As Harry sits, eating, Regulus begins speaking.

"We can't stay here."

"I know," Harry says, "You said something about your brother last night?"

"Sirius would find you here and I don't know what he'd do. The most likely option is that he'd tell Dumbledore and they'd have you moved back to your Aunt and Uncle's."

Harry looks horrified at the mention of going back to his relatives and Regulus rushes to reassure him.

"Not that I'd let you stay there for long, we'd just have to run away again." Regulus runs his ands through his hair, "That isn't quite the point. We need somewhere to stay where nobody's going to drag you back to Dumbledore."

They both look thoughtful for a second and then Harry runs out of the room. He comes back a minute later with a contemplative look on his face.

"Grandmother says your brother never comes around here."

"No." Regulus frowns, "I don't imagine he would. The wards, on the other hand, are still here. If they haven't alerted him to our presence yet then they will eventually."

"Well," his mother's voice almost makes him jump from his chair, "I've been told you're looking for somewhere to stay?"

Regulus nods and Harry relays the message.

"Have you considered staying at the Malfoys'?"

The thought hasn't even crossed his mind. The Malfoys are, in a word, protective. If they deem you family then there isn't much anybody can do to take you from them. If they were to take Harry in then it would be almost perfect. Regulus' only problem with it is that they Malfoys are also supporters of The Dark Lord and Regulus gave his life in an attempt to destroy said Lord.

He bites his lip and thinks. If they could be convinced it was a political advantage then maybe they'd at least tolerate Harry. But how to spin this? Malfoy family takes in the poor abandoned Potter child? Maybe. It would paint the Potters in a negative light and give the Malfoys a bit more influence with the muggle haters of the ministry. The Weasleys would probably throw their lot in with Harry, no matter who was raising him.

"Ask her if the floo is still working."

When Harry repeats the question, Regulus' mother looks almost insulted.

"Of course not." She sniffs, "That would far too dangerous anyway. Just have Kreacher deliver a message."

Regulus had prided himself on thinking of Kreacher as a solution when The Dark Lord hadn't and now here he is, overlooking the very creature he considered a friend.

Kreacher nods and disappears with a popping noise. He reappears a few minutes later and reaches out to grab Harry's hand. Harry, of course, grabs back like this is perfectly normal and then the two of them are gone.

Regulus throws one last glance at is mother and sighs before he leaves. Some people never really change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than usual for two reasons;
> 
> 1) I was in kind of a hurry when I wrote it
> 
> 2) I couldn't figure our how to continue it from where I left off without it sounding awkward. Like, the whole thing sounds awkward anyway but continuing would've sounded even more awkward.
> 
> Anyway, here's a chapter. I ended up having to use Internet Explorer (I know, the horror) to update just in case anybody was wondering. 
> 
> New question; What house should Harry be in? I'm torn between Hufflepuff and Slytherin but am open to any and all suggestions.
> 
> Second, totally unrelated to this story question; If I were to write a book, would I be able to put it on AO3? I've checked out the original work tag but most of it seems to be crossovers or something and it's weird. I feel like the answer should be obvious but the Internet has so many unspoken rules I figured it was best if I asked.
> 
> Also, Fun Fact; Juliette's first name is the same as the main character of my Book. Just in case you were wondering (I mean, I would be curious if I didn't already know because everybody else gives female Potter children names of flowers and okay I get it Lily is their mom and stuff so it makes sense but I really like the name Juliette, Y'know?)


	8. How to Handle Your Sudden Adoption and Motherly Instincts by Adopting More Children by Narcissa Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Time: Regulus Black is still a sweetheart and Harry might have new living arrangements

Narcissa Malfoy is sitting in her dining room with her husband and son when a house elf shows up. Not just any house elf, it’s her aunt’s old house elf, Kreacher.

“Kreacher?” She asks, surprise flits across her face for all of a second before she covers it with her usual blank expression.

“Lady Malfoy,” the elf begins, “Mistress Black sends Kreacher with a request.”

“Oh?”

“Mistress Black would like to ask if yous would be willing to take in young Master Potter.”

“Master Potter?” Her husband sputters from beside her, “The Potters have a daughter, not a son.”

Narcissa rolls her eyes (she’s always been more composed than him, he’s like a huge child), “We’d love to meet him, Kreacher.” Her smile is kind and her eyes soft as she watches the house elf disappear. It takes all of three seconds for Kreacher to reappear, this time with a young boy.

Her first instinct is to feed this child (he’s definitely a Potter, no doubt about it) and smother him with nice things because he looks so lost and weak that she’s afraid she could bowl him over with a breath. 

“Hello, Ma’am,” he smiles shyly at her and _oh_ , she’s in love. This poor, adorable boy needs all of the mothering he can get (Lucius knows how she is and takes a deep breath, he needs to set a room). 

“No need for that, you can call me Cissa or mom, whichever you prefer.” He looks stunned and confusedly looks to his left. 

Draco looks on, confused and strangely pleased. He’s always wanted a younger brother, Narcissa remembers, and this is probably very sudden for him. 

“Mom?”

“Yes, dear?” Narcissa smiles gently at the small boy.

“No, sorry. I meant why would I call you mom?”

“You’re living here, of course,” she sniffs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world (it is to the Malfoy’s, they know how she can get when she wants something but the child just seems utterly confused by this whole mess). 

“I am?” He looks dazed.

“Yes,” her voice holds no room for argument, “What’s your name, dear?”

“Harry Potter.”

Narcissa smiles once again and points to Draco, “That’s my son, Draco. Why don’t you have him show you around while Lucius and I discuss arrangements?”

Harry looks to his left again, like he’s waiting for permission, and the nods shyly at her. Draco perks up at the chance to show somebody his yard.

After they’ve both left, Narcissa gives Lucius a pointed look. He sighs.

“I’ll have the room prepared before he goes to bed, dear.”

She throws her pureblood composure straight out the window and squeals at him, “Isn’t he so adorable, Lucius? He’s so small, poor boy, he should eat more. Oh! When are we going to adopt him? We are going to adopt him, right? How should we adopt him-”

Lucius pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, “Narcissa, dearest. One thing at a time, please?”

She continues on, completely ignoring him, “Blood adoption or regular adoption? What about his room, what colors should we do it in? Do you think he’ll like it here? We should ask him if he likes it here. What if he doesn’t? He and Draco looked so adorable together-”

Lucius can only wait it out as Narcissa continues on her rant.

When she finally finishes, she looks at him, “Well?”

“He’ll love it, dear.”

She knows he stopped paying attention somewhere around the middle of her speech and had begun to insult his peacocks directly afterwards just to see if he’d start paying attention (she’s almost certain he loves the birds more than he loves her but she’s perfectly ready to ignore it as long as nothing untoward happens).

Together they call Dobby and have him begin to set up a room for their new charge (“new son,” Narcissa corrects), they tell him to ask Harry what colors he wants for his room before he starts working (“I want him to love it, not just like it, Lucius”). Dobby is, of course, perfectly willing to comply and vanishes as soon as they finish speaking. 

Narcissa lays her head on Lucius’ shoulder and sighs happily. She’s always wanted another child (if not for Draco’s sake, then her own) and now one has been practically thrown onto their laps. Her smile turns into a frown as she considers how skinny Harry is. James was small (very small, she recalls, up until fifth year) but she doubts he was ever quite this small. Even Regulus had never been this small (and he had been a small child, her favorite cousin by far). She’s sure that Harry’s young enough to still have baby fat on his cheeks, but she can see the bones of his face easily. How old is he anyway? Seven? Eight? He’s so small Narcissa can hardly hazard a guess. 

Lucius must have noticed the way she tensed up because he breathes gently into her hair, “What’s wrong, dear?”

“Did you see how small he is?”

He nods softly, “He’s small.”

“Yes,” she agrees, “but he’s just _so tiny_ , Lucius.”

He hums noncommittally. 

“No, Lucius, _you don’t understand_. He’s _too_ small. He shouldn’t be that small.”

“Narcissa, dearest. There isn’t much we can do about the past, not now. You can only change his future.”

Narcissa wants to cry for a second because he’s right, _of course he is_ but it hurts anyway. She can see the pain in Harry’s eyes and she wants to hurt whoever hurt him tenfold, wants to watch whoever it is _scream_ and beg for mercy.

She wants to cry because she’s already so attached to this small child who’s only just stumbled into her life, loves him so much that it hurts. It doesn’t makes sense and she doesn’t know if she wants it to. All Narcissa really knows for certain is that nobody is going to hurt Harry Potter ever again, not if she has her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A POV that isn't Regulus or Harry? What has the world come to????
> 
> Anyway, I'm back and have decided I'm going to try to update on Saturdays (that's when I have the most free time) 
> 
> I was going to update this last Saturday but my sister's friend was staying over for the weekend and I had to be a good host or something like that, so here's an apology chapter.
> 
> Come yell at me or something on Tumblr (or don't) because I'm kinda tired of pretending not to speak English when the porn bots try to talk to me: lincolndid911.tumblr.com
> 
> The chapter is up to over a thousand words again so hooray there.
> 
> It was pointed out to me that a blood adoption would be a smart way to go about things for the Malfoys because the Potters would totally try to take Harry back and he needs protection.
> 
> Also, lowkey was not planning for Narcissa to glomp poor Harry as soon as she laid eyes on him but a Mother always knows, I guess. She kind of took this chapter and ran with it.


	9. How Not to Reveal You Can Talk to Ghosts by Harry Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time: Narcissa already loves little Harry and Lucius is resigned to his fate

Harry looks back at Regulus one last time before following after Draco. He didn’t particularly want to leave for a tour of the house (especially not without Regulus to warn him if he couldn’t trust something) but the Malfoys had given a clear dismissal (which is to say, Mrs. Malfoy had given a clear dismissal and Mr. Malfoy had sighed in a resigned manner) and Regulus had given the go-ahead. 

Draco was okay, though. Mostly. Far too excitable for Harry, but to each his own.

The tour starts in a large hallway off to the side of the first room (“the sitting room”) that had paintings lining the walls. Harry can recognize Mrs. Black- Grandmother, he corrects himself- among them.

“Hello, Grandmother,” he calls out.

The portrait looks up and smiles at him, “Hello, Harry. I see you’ve met young Draco? A fine specimen of a pure-blood heir.” Her pride is almost tangible for all of a second before she looks disappointed, “That is, if his father wasn’t such a clutz. Slytherin he may be but you’ll never find someone as airheaded as that man.”

Draco shouts an indignant, “Hey!” before grabbing Harry’s sleeve and dragging him from the hallway.

“Don’t worry about Mrs. Black, Father says she’s just an old loon,” Draco says, glaring heatedly back at the hallway. “You called her Grandmother, didn’t you?” at Harry’s nod he continues, “Why’s that? I’ve always had to call her either Mrs. Black or Lady Black.” The blond is pouting now, lower lip stuck out sullenly and eyes glued to the space over Harry’s shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugs, “She just asked me to call her that.”

“When’d you get to meet her? She only has two portraits and I think I'd have noticed if you’d shown up here.”

“Oh,” a blink, “I met her at Grimmauld Place.”

Draco looks at him in surprise, “Grimmauld Place? Sirius Black own that house and he never lets anybody in it!”

“Regulus took me in the house after we ran away from my aunt and uncle.” At Draco’s bewildered look, Harry continues, “Regulus Black?”

“That’s not possible,” Draco says forcibly, “Regulus Black is dead.”

“I know,” says Harry.

“Then at least come up with a better lie than that!”

“I’m not lying,” Draco shoots Harry a disbelieving look, “Really, I’m not! He just kind of showed up in my garden is all.”

Draco huffs at Harry in an annoyed way, “Whatever, come on.” and so the tour continues.

Eventually the two wind up in the yard. It has peacocks (“My Father’s,” Draco says proudly) and giant bubble wands, of all things.

“Do you want to play Quidditch?” Draco seems to have forgotten his annoyance at Harry in favor of asking him to play.

“Quidditch?”

“Yeah! We have a pitch right there- it’s not as nice as Hogwarts’, mind you, but it’s good for one-on-one games.”

Slightly reluctant to kill Draco’s hope, Harry speaks, “What’s Quidditch?”

Draco looks for a moment like he was just told the funniest joke ever and then he catches the look of legitimate confusion on Harry’s face and begins to look horrified, “You’ve never heard of Quidditch? What kind of wizards raised you?”

“I wasn’t raised by wizards, I was raised by muggles.”

The look of horror on Draco’s face is becoming vaguely amusing, “MUGGLES-”

Regulus shows up before Harry can get too focused on Draco’s horrified ranting, “What’s going on here?”

“I told him I was raised by muggles,” this seems to amuse Regulus because his shoulders start shaking with repressed laughter.

“You did? Oh that’s great, just look at his face,” and indeed, Draco’s face was frozen in a mix of horrified confusion.

“Who are you talking to?” 

Harry looks awkwardly between Regulus and Draco, “I’m talking to Regulus. Can’t you see him?”

Draco shakes his head no and looks as if he’s about to start screaming before Regulus steps in, “Harry, nobody else can see me. Anyway, Cissa and Lucius are done talking, you should probably go back.”

Harry nods and grabs Draco’s shirt to drag him inside.

Mrs. Malfoy smiles at the two of them when they enter, “We were just about to call for you,” she says.

Regulus is so busy stifling laughter beside him that Harry misses it when Draco runs off to his parents. 

“He’s crazy,” Draco tells them, “He thinks he’s talking to Regulus Black but he says he knows Regulus is dead and then he just dragged me in here! You know what else he said? He said he was raised by muggles-”

“That’s quite enough, Draco,” Mrs. Malfoy frowns at her son, then she turns to look at Harry, “Is this true?”

“That I was raised by muggles? That’s what I’ve been told.”

“No, dear,” she looks like she wants to laugh, “About Regulus Black?”

“Oh,” Harry says, “Yeah.”

Mr. Malfoy finally speaks up, “You’ll forgive me for asking for proof, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Harry looks over to Regulus, “What do you want me to tell them?”

“Tell Cissa,” Regulus starts, smirking, “That Andy once poured muggle glue all over her hair and charmed it so we couldn’t get it out. We had to shave it all off and she was bald for a few hours until we could get Uncle Pollux to grow it back.”

Harry turns to Mrs. Malfoy and repeats Regulus’ story. Her face changes from slightly indulging disbelief to shock by the time he’s done.

“He’s definitely been in contact with somebody from the Black family.”

Grandmother chooses that moment to make an appearance, “He’s telling the truth,” she sniffs in the haughty way she often does, “He proved it when he showed up to Grimmauld Place- in awful, muggle clothing, no less.”

“Aunt Walburga,” Mrs. Malfoy says, “You can’t expect me to believe Regulus is a ghost- one we can’t even see!”

“Well,” Grandmother starts, “Unless Sirius is playing one of his jokes, then I have no reason to believe otherwise.”

“I-” Mrs. Malfoy thinks for a second before smiling brilliantly at Harry, “I apologize, dear. Now come here and sit down, we have much to discuss.”

Regulus is still stifling his laughter in a corner and Draco is still hidden behind his parents. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy both seem to be exasperated by their son’s behavior and Grandmother is muttering darkly in Mr. Malfoy’s general direction. Harry thinks that, for once, things might end up okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to make each chapter at least a thousand words and I'm doing pretty well so far. 
> 
> Also, haha totally stuck to my update schedule!!! And, I didn't reply to any comments on the last chapter and I'm sorry about that. It's not that I didn't want to but all I could think to say was thank you and I didn't want it to sound insincere, y'know?
> 
> On another, completely unrelated topic- I just wanted to say thank you to anybody who's taken the time to read this far! My writing wasn't the best when I started this (it still isn't) but I feel like it's improved quite a bit and I wanted to say thanks for having the patience to read through those first few messy chapters. :)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you have a good rest of your day!


	10. How to Interfere with Adoption Rituals Despite Being Dead by Regulus Black, Local Dead Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Time: Harry gets a house tour and the Malfoys find out he can talk to ghosts

The day after the Malfoys' talk with Harry (living arrangements and what would need to be done legally) finds Regulus standing behind said boy’s chair at breakfast. There isn’t much conversation, aside from Draco’s excited muttering about getting his Hogwarts letter, but that seems to suit everyone just fine.

Not long after they sit down to eat, there’s a tapping noise at the window. Regulus raises an eyebrow at Cissa and hopes she can feel his impatience enough to open the window. She does, apparently, feel the impatience rolling off of him (or maybe she’s just as impatient) because she gets up almost immediately to let the owls inside. One of them drops a letter in front of Draco and another drops a letter in front of Harry.

The letter is on heavy parchment, sealed with the Hogwarts crest (it hasn't changed at all since Sirius got his letter) and addressed to _Mr. H. Potter, the second bedroom, Malfoy Manor_ (Regulus narrows his eyes at that part, if Harry had still been sleeping in a cupboard would the letter have been addressed there? Would anybody have seen it and thought to check on the kid who's Hogwarts letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs?). 

Draco's letter is similarly addressed (they both have the second largest bedroom in Malfoy Manor and Regulus wonders for a second how many second largest bedrooms they have) but he's far more eager to open his letter than Harry is. 

"Harry," Regulus draws out his name.

Harry hums in question.

"Are you gonna open it?" Harry looks confusedly over to Regulus and blinks.

"Sorry," he says, "I've never had any mail before."

Regulus can see both Lucius and Cissa stiffen at that but neither seems eager to say anything about it. Both boys begin ripping the wax seal apart so they can read the letter (Harry in a far more controlled manner than Draco's eager tearing). Draco lets out a whoop of excitement and Harry hums thoughtfully.

Lucius chooses that moment to speak. "Harry," he begins, "before you start Hogwarts, Cissa and I were wondering..." Lucius' voice trails off, sounding awkward,

Cissa takes over, smiling at Harry "Would you allow us to adopt you? We have a few methods we can choose from but we'll do whatever makes you comfortable, dear."

Harry looks extremely unsure of how to respond so he looks to Regulus who shrugs, "I'm fine with whatever you choose. As long as you're happy, kiddo."

It takes a minute (in which Harry chews on his bottom lip and gets scolded by Mother for it) before he can come to a decision, "Okay," Harry's voice is slow and hesitant, "I'd like that. What are my options?"

Cissa's face lights up like she was just given the best present in all of existence, "There are three options; We can blood adopt you, we can go through the ministry's adoption network or we can ask your," she hesitates here, sneering slightly, "parents."

"The others are kind of self-explanatory, but what's a blood adoption?"

Lucius takes up speaking this time, "It's a ritual, you'd have to drink a potion with our blood in it and you'd change to look like you're our child by blood. Not all of you would change, though."

Harry looks helplessly at Regulus again, "Harry," he says, kneeling to be at eye level with the boy, "I'll support you with whatever you pick, but, unless you want to get James and Lily Potter involved, blood adoption is probably the least likely to get you taken away."

"I... Okay. Blood adoption sounds the best, if that's okay?" Harry ducks his head and looks out from under his bangs. 

Cissa coos at him and nods, "Of course it's okay, dear. We wouldn't have offered otherwise. Lucius," she says, turning to her husband, "where'd you put the blood adoption potions, anyway?"

"I didn't think we're going to need them," he mutters, walking quietly out of the room.

"You guys have a store of blood adoption potions?" Regulus' voice sounds just as incredulous as he's feeling, "What the- Who does that?"

Lucius returns not an hour later with three potions and a knife. He sets the potions on the table and grabs a piece of chalk from its spot by the fireplace. Regulus has never seen this ritual performed, has no idea what it entails, and so is extremely fascinated by the process. It begins with a large chalk circle, drawn around Cissa, Lucius, and Harry. Next, Lucius begins sketching runes around the outer edges (Fehu, Raido, Laguz, Berkana, Inguz, Gebo, Wunjo, Jera, Sowulo, and Othillla), linking them together in ways too complicated for Regulus to understand (he never took runes in school, Lucius did and he passed each year with an outstanding in the class- Regulus wants to say that Lucius got a mastery in runes but he can't quite remember). Once the runes are linked and the circle checked and double checked for errors, Lucius turns to Draco, "Draco, I need you to stay out of the circle, alright? This is difficult magic and if you try to interfere with it I'm not sure what it'd do."

At Draco's understanding nod, Lucius picks up to of the potions and hands one to Cissa. He takes the knife first, dragging it slowly across his palm and allowing the blood from the would to drip into the vial with the position. The potion goes from clear to a bright silver color (Regulus wishes he's taken the time to read up on this potion because it's far more interesting than he thought and he'd really like to know what's going on). Cissa does the same, turning her potion a dark, almost blood colored, red. Regulus looks down at the third potion curiously and reaches down to dip a finger in it (not that he can feel it or that his finger actually causes a reaction in the potion). Lucius and Narcissa pour their respective potions into the third potion and Lucius begins chanting. The chant is quiet, too quiet for Regulus to hear, and soon it stops (all that's left is the sound of drums, banging over and over in his head). The potion is handed to a silent, confused Harry who blinks at them in question. 

"Drink it," says Cissa. And Harry does. 

Nothing happens for a few seconds, there is no bright lights or sudden changes. All is silent.

Then, Harry's eyes roll into the back of his head and he collapses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I've said this yet, but I really want to thank LadyEloquence for so many of the ideas I've been using! They always have something to say and a ton of good ideas. I don't want to take credit for them (because there's no way I'd be creative enough to come up with them on my own) so here's a list of LadyEloquence's ideas that I've used;  
> -Blood Adoption  
> -Moving in with the Malfoys  
> -The POV order for the previous chapter and this chapter  
> -and that's all I can think of that I've used thus far (feel free to correct me if I'm wrong)
> 
> I really should go through and rename the chapters but I'm lowkey too lazy for that lmao
> 
> I don't think there's anything else I need to say... so... see you next week!


	11. Actually Teaching Children to Use Floo Powder (Molly) by Narcissa Malfoy, Local Soccer Mom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time: Harry gets his Hogwarts letter and is then adopted

Harry wakes up slowly, his only source of information the snippets of conversation he can hear.

“Harry, c’mon kiddo-”

“I don’t think you did the ritual correctly, Lucius.”

“Of course I did-”

“He should be _awake_ already.”

“Harry, please. I know you can hear me, sweetheart-”

When he does finally wake up, the first thing Harry sees is Regulus’ face.

“Reg’lus?”

“Thank Merlin you’re up, I was worried. Apparently, you were only supposed to sleep three hours but you slept _twenty-four_ -”

“‘M fine.”

“ _Harry_.”

Before Regulus can get too far into his mother-henning, Cissa shows up and (unknowingly) interrupts what’s bound to be a _very_ long-winded speech. 

“Harry, dear, it’s good to see you’re awake,” she has a gentle, but relieved smile on her face, “you slept a bit longer than we thought you would but you’re awake now, so it’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Regulus says heatedly, “ _twenty-two hours_ more.”

“You might want to look in the mirror, though,” Cissa has a small crease between her eyebrows, confused and vaguely concerned look replacing the gentle, relieved smile from earlier. 

“Mirror?” That’s… confusing. 

Regulus looks sheepish now, hand scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. “About that,” he says, “apparently, despite being a ghost, standing in the middle of a ritual still has… _side-effects_.”

“What kind of side-effects?”

“What?” Cissa asks, blinking in confusion at Harry.

“Sorry, I was talking to Regulus. He said something about side-effects?”

“Ah,” she says, “he’s not… wrong, I suppose. The ritual worked a little differently than expected. That’s why I said you should check the mirror, dear.”

Harry pushes the covers off and walks slowly towards the bathroom, pausing in front of the full body mirror. He looks… different, that’s for sure. The first, most noticeable difference, is his hair. Rather than the bird’s nest it had been, it looks instead like he’d been in a car with the window down or just left the bed (which, he had). Next is his height, he’s certainly taller than he had been (only by a few inches). The third is his eyes, instead of the bright green he’d been expecting, they’re a light grey and a bit rounder than they’d been originally (he then notices that he hasn’t been wearing his glasses at all, which doesn’t make any sense). Finally, the most surprising change of all, was his _face_. His cheekbones and jawbones are sharper (not by much, he still has baby fat on his face) and his nose pointier. But, of all the changes to his face, the freckles are the most surprising. They look like Regulus’ freckles, scattered just across his nose and cheeks like constellations. Which, of course, now that he thinks about it, Harry looks a lot like Regulus. 

He turns back to look at Cissa and Regulus, surprised, and squeaks, “ _what_?”

Cissa looks like she’s trying to find an explanation and Regulus looks vaguely guilty, “sorry, kiddo,” he says.”Like I said, apparently, despite being a ghost, I can still mess up rituals.”

All Harry can think to say is, “oh.”

Cissa gives Harry another confused look before shaking her head gently. “Lucius and I don’t know what happened. We expected you to turn out blonde or something similar to somebody in the Malfoy family- not like a mini-Regulus.”

“Regulus says he accidentally interfered with the ritual.”

Cissa suddenly looks both unsurprised and annoyed, “That’s something Regulus would do. He always had a knack for interfering where he shouldn’t.” She sends a glare around the room, as if trying to pin down Regulus’ location. Then she sends a smile his way, “Come on, Harry dear, we need to head to Diagon Alley. No reason to worry about a ritual gone wrong, I suppose. But, we _do_ need to worry about getting your name changed and settle the adoption at Gringotts.”

“Yes, Ma- Cissa. Yes, Cissa.”

She smiles gently at Harry and leaves him to get dressed.

“Don’t give me that look,” Harry pouts at Regulus who just smirks in return.

“You’re my illegitimate son now, I can look at you however I want.”

Harry gives a playful growl and shoos a laughing Regulus from the room.

The Malfoys, Harry, and Regulus are standing around the sitting room within the hour (it was almost over an hour because Draco just _had_ to gel back his hair). Cissa has her hand resting softly on Harry’s shoulder and her head resting gently on Lucius’ shoulder. Eventually, Lucius finishes buttoning his shirt the rest of the way (why he came downstairs before he had buttoned his shirt the whole way was a mystery to Harry) and walks towards the fireplace. At first, Harry is confused about what _exactly_ it is that Lucius is doing but the answer comes soon enough when said man grabs a handful of… _something_... from a bowl on the mantel and steps into the empty fireplace. 

“Diagon Alley!” Lucius yells and drops the handful of stuff at his feet. For a second, nothing happens but then, Lucius disappears in a flash of green flame, leaving Harry to stare in shock between Regulus and the now empty fireplace. 

“Floo travel,” Regulus explains, “you just kind of… poof.” He makes a vague gesture with his hands as if to indicate an explosion (or, in this case, poof) and then stares at them in betrayal, pouting dramatically.

Harry rolls his eyes, today is going to be a long, very long, day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than usual and I apologize for that. I wrote this at midnight because I have a day trip to Reno planned for tomorrow and I won't be able to update so I wanted to get this done. On the bright side, Spring Break has officially started and I couldn't be happier. Although, I may have failed Spanish (I don't understand it at all, no matter how many times the teacher explains what we're learning none of it seems to stick).
> 
> Stolen ideas from LadyEloquence: Harry gets blood adopted by mah boy, Reggie.
> 
> Also, Regulus was totally the one calling Harry sweetheart and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. Same for the freckles. He and Harry are freckle buddies and I would die for them.
> 
> See you next week!!!


	12. I Think I'm Cool, Pointing Out Harry's Inheritance Test, but Nobody is Actually Surprised by Draco Malfoy, Local Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Time: Harry is now Reggie's son (and Freckle Buddy) and they all are about to go to Diagon Alley

Draco pats the soot off of his clothes and turns to watch the fireplace. He had left to the Leaky Cauldron through the floo directly after Father and now they had to wait for Harry and Mother (she had to stay back and help him because he’s never used the floo before and they didn’t want him to get lost). 

Eventually, the two of them came through (Mother did so extremely gracefully and Harry stumbled and fell on the floor). Mother grabs both Draco’s and Harry’s hands and begins to drag them to the back of the Leaky Cauldron. 

“We have a lot to do today,” Mother says, “First, we need to stop at Gringotts.”

She’s right, of course, and very determined. Despite how Draco tries to drag them off course or Harry pauses to stare in awe at something, they end up at the bank fairly quickly. Father enters first (it’s custom for the head of the family to enter a building before any other members), followed by Mother (second in command), Draco (heir), and Harry (second child/guest of household). They walk, without hesitation (except for Harry, who pauses to nod politely at the goblins), towards Griphook. Father clears his throat, demanding the goblins attention, and taps his foot impatiently. 

“We don’t have much time, Griphook.”

Griphook looks up at Father slowly and then turns back to his work. “What,” starts the goblin, “don’t you have time for, Mr. Malfoy?”

“We’re shopping for our Hogwarts supplies today. We need to withdraw a few galleons, legalize an adoption, and have two inheritance tests done. As I said, I am a busy man, Griphook, and I don’t have time to wait.”

There’s a pause and then, “Follow me, Mr. Malfoy. We can legalize the adoption while the inheritance tests are done and you can withdraw your money before you leave.”

The Malfoys (plus Harry) follow the goblin through what seems to be a million twists and turns before they stop in front of a door with the nameplate ‘Griphook’ on it.

“Come in,” says the goblin.

Draco and his family sit on one side of the table and Griphook sits on the other.

“I’m going to assume,” Griphook’s voice sounds sarcastic and slightly angry, “that you’re adopting that one?” He gestures at Harry who smiles and nods politely back.

“Yes,” says Father,” Harry is to become a member of the Malfoy household as soon as possible.”

Griphook nods and taps the table with a long, gnarled finger. Not five minutes later, another goblin enters the room holding two stacks of parchment and a hand full of quills. 

He hands the larger packet to Mother and Father, “You’ll need to fill these out.” Griphook then turns to Draco and Harry, handing them each a blank piece of parchment, “Write your full name here,” he says, pointing to the top of the page.

Harry looks confused at the quill but Draco doesn’t hesitate to do as he’s told. Draco notices Harry look over his shoulder and pause for a minute. He doesn’t look confused anymore and proceeds to write his name at the top of the page.

Draco watches his parchment fill itself out.

_Draco Lucius Malfoy_

_Heir to Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy (by right of blood)_

_Secondary Heir to Noble and Most Ancient House of Black (by right of blood)_

It isn’t much and he knows Father will be disappointed that he isn’t the main heir to the Black family, but it’s good enough for Draco.

He turns to take a look at Harry’s parchment.

_Harry James Potter_

_Heir to Noble and Most Ancient House of Black (by right of blood)_

_Secondary Heir to House of Peverell (by right of blood)_

_Secondary Heir to Noble House of Potter (by right of blood)_

_Secondary Heir to Most Ancient House of Slytherin (by right of conquest)_

Draco blinks in confusion at the last one. If anybody would be heir to Slytherin by right of conquest wouldn’t it be the Girl-Who-Lived? Unless…

He looks down at the parchment again and then back up at Harry’s lightning scar. There’s no way that _anybody_ could’ve been that mistaken. How do you mess up so badly you pick the wrong savior of the wizarding world?

Slowly, so as not to alarm anybody, Draco tugs on Mother’s sleeve.

“Mother,” he says, “look at Harry’s parchment.”

She opens her mouth to ask what’s wrong but catches sight of said parchment. Mother closes her mouth with a snap and holds her hand out to Harry.

“May I see your parchment, Harry, dear?”

Harry looks over his shoulder again before handing it to Mother. She purses her lips and drags Father to look at the parchment as well.

“Cissa, dear, I’m still filling out-” he pauses, mid-sentence. “Well. Isn’t this a surprise?”

Griphook raises an eyebrow at them and Harry is the one to answer, “Regulus says that they’re confused about the ‘secondary heir of Slytherin’ thing.”

“No matter,” says Father, turning back to fill out what Draco assumes are the adoption forms, “this changes nothing.”

So they continue along this way, Harry and Draco playing something called the Silent Game and Mother and Father finish putting their signatures on the forms.

“Alright,” says Mother, clapping her hands, we’re done here.”

“Finally,” breathes Draco, the Silent Game had gotten boring almost twenty minutes ago.

“You lose,” says Harry.

Draco most certainly doesn’t pout at this. At all. Draco Malfoy does _not_ pout (Regulus Black will tell you that this is definitely a lie because every Malfoy he’s ever met has pouted at every given opportunity).

Mother drags them back out to the front of the bank and holds their shoulders as they wait for Father to finish making a withdrawal.

It doesn’t take long. Between the speed the carts go at and the business attitude of Father, they’re out of Gringotts and back in the alley quickly enough. 

“I’m taking them to get fitted for their robes next,” Mother says, walking towards the robe shop, “you should go scout out the wand shop, I’ll be going to the bookstore.” Mother’s tone holds no room for argument and she walks off before getting a response.

Mother waits until she’s sure they’re being fitted before she leaves. There’s a girl on the stool next to them, a Weasley based on her red hair and brown eyes. She doesn’t have the hand-me-down clothes, though. Not a Weasley? Possibly. 

He turns his head toward the girl. “Hello,” he says politely, “Hogwarts too?”

She looks down her nose at him and sniffs the way Lady Black’s portrait does, “Obviously.” She then eyes him critically, “Malfoy?”

Draco puffs out his chest proudly, causing the woman fitting him to hiss and tell him to stay still. “Obviously.”

“Who’s that, then? Some other Dark Wizard in training?”

“What?” Draco blinks at her in confusion, “No- why would- Harry isn’t a Dark Wizard in training. I doubt he could hurt a fly.”

“Hey!” Harry says, vaguely offended, “I could too. I set a snake on my cousin once.”

“It doesn’t count as being a Dark Wizard if it was self-defense.”

“It wasn’t self-defense, he wasn’t doing anything to me.”

The girl watches the conversation go on for a few minutes before she clears her throat, “I never got your name.”

“Harry,” said boy pauses, “what’s my last name now?”

“I don’t know. Mother never said.”

Mother chooses that moment to walk in the door, “It’s Black. Technically, it’s Black-Malfoy but it’s easier for everyone involved if we just say Black.”

“My Godfather has the last name Black.”

“Oh?” says Mother, raising an eyebrow, “What’s your name, Dear?”

“Juliette Potter,” the girl- Potter- says haughtily. 

Mother hums, “Tell Sirius that cousin Cissa says hello. Come along, boys.”

So, they leave Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions and set off to find Father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, getting distracted every time I try to write this chapter: Wow, I haven't seen this movie yet! Man, I'm hungry. How much _does_ a Polar Bear weigh???
> 
> In other words, I was a mess while writing this chapter lmao.
> 
> When I get to the Hogwarts chapter I'm going to do it from Harry's POV (obviously) but I think I'm going to add a couple of oneshots of the same chapter but from other people's POV (One from Regulus and one from Sirius for sure).
> 
> I can't think of anything else... 
> 
> Ummm.... Stolen Ideas for this chapter:  
> -Name Change  
> -Inheritance Test
> 
> (Always from LadyEloquence lmao)
> 
> See you next week!
> 
> Actually- I crossposted this on ff.net so if you see it there (under the name KittenkaKNR) then that's me so don't worry.


	13. Talking to Other People Sucks, Thanks for Asking by Regulus Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Time: The Malfoys + Reg and Harry go to Diagon Alley, learn some things about Harry and meet Juliette Potter

Regulus Black is, in a word, exhausted (if a ghost can be exhausted). Diagon Alley had been fun (Harry’s wonder at everything had served to cement whatever it was that had Regulus reminding Harry to eat and brush his teeth and all those other things his parents had reminded him to do) but also extremely concerning. There had been other ghosts there. Harry had noticed them too but hadn’t pointed anything out to the Malfoys because they didn’t seem to notice any of them.

One of the ghosts, Conrad, had followed Regulus around like a puppy for a bit before beginning a speech about how terrible the Malfoys were and how Regulus shouldn’t be hanging around them. It took Regulus pointing out that his own last name was Black for Conrad to turn tail and run.

Another ghost, Alyssa, was far more polite. She asked questions about Harry and Regulus’ relationship more than anything and seemed genuinely pleased with the answers she received.

“He looks like you,” Alyssa had said after a lull in the conversation, “You look a bit young to be his father, though.”

“Blood adoption accident. But, Harry _is_ my son.”

Alyssa had left after that, claiming the need to check on a family member.

All in all, an interesting trip. 

Regulus sits on the edge of Harry’s bed and hums quietly to himself in the dead hours of the night. Being a ghost can be kind of lonely, but he thinks he can manage. For Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been gone for two weeks and I'm super sorry about that. Also, this chapter is short as fuck. Here's why:
> 
> Two weeks ago, my grandma got sick and my sister and I had all of our time out of school taken up with making sure she was okay and doing the work around her house and so on. She got better last week but soon after my grandpa collapsed and we had to take him to the hospital. I spent the entire week visiting him and arguing with the stupid nurse who kept saying he was covered by Keiser because he most certainly is not. He switched insurance a while back because Keiser was too expensive for something he never really used but they kept calling and saying that he was still with them. As soon as we demanded written proof that we weren't going to get a million dollar bill, they changed their minds and decided he wasn't with them. They continued this pattern all week. He was discharged recently so I haven't been _as_ busy. I'm still busy though. Which is why this chapter is really short. My aunt, Stephany, is taking me out to look at Prom dresses and my cousin, Marissa, is having my sister and I stay the weekend at her place afterwards.
> 
> So, I'm sorry. Updates should be back to normal by next week.
> 
> SPEAKING OF WHICH
> 
> I've been getting fanart by Lemonishflavour/AnonymousGeek (Who I'm assuming are the same person but feel free to correct me if I'm wrong) and it's beautiful oml  
> Like,,,, I might actually die because I love it so much.
> 
> I'll see y'all next week!!!


	14. How to Feel Guilty About Absolutely Nothing by Sirius Black, Local Scapegoat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Time: My boy, Reggie, thinks about Diagon Alley while we all think about how much we love him.

Sirius Orion Black is having a… well, a bad day. It’s not particularly bad, not really, but his overdramatic personality is having issues accepting that fact. 

“It can’t be that bad,” James, bless his soul, says.

“It can,” Sirius replies, throwing an arm over his face, “it really, really can.”

James rolls his eyes (smiling, always smiling), “What happened, then?”

“I ran into,” here, Sirius lowers his voice, “the Malfoys.”

Like the good friend he is, James gasps in horror and then falls over laughing (bad friend, very bad friend). “Aww, Siri, you had me worried something bad had happened!”

Sirius sits up on the chair and flails his arms, “It did, though! They had two kids with them, James. Two! I am _not_ teaching two Malfoy children at once.”

“You teach Muggle Studies.”

“So?” James just raises an eyebrow (he learned that from Lily) and waits. Sirius looks away suddenly. “Okay,” he says, “Maybe I was being a _little_ overdramatic.”

“A little?”

“Oh hush, you!”

And so concludes that line of conversation. It isn’t until Sirius is home later that he allows himself to think on the topic more. Cissa would’ve told him if she’d had another kid, right? He may have been on… bad terms with her but she’d tell him something like this. Or maybe he’s wrong.

There’s no love lost between Sirius Black and Lucius Malfoy, but Narcissa had always been a close friend to the Black heir, an impartial judge when he needed one most. Her strong neutrality and soft words had calmed him when he felt like lashing out.

Sirius runs a hand through his tangled hair and falls back onto his pillow. Children…

Juliette would be turning eleven soon. She’d gotten her Hogwarts letter and gone to Diagon Alley already, returned with a wand and a trunk full of books (obviously her mother’s child). Juliette’s birthday was, of course, Harry’s birthday as well. Sirius wondered, for a brief moment, what life would be like had Harry not died that night. Would they be celebrating their birthday together? How close would Juliette and Harry be? What house would he be in?

These questions were ones that could never be answered and it makes Sirius want to scream. His godson is dead and he’s still not over it. Sure, there’s Juliette and he loves her so, so much, but Harry was special. Harry had been like a son to Sirius. Despite having only known him a year, Sirius had grown attached to Harry, had cried when James and Lily told him of Harry’s death.

It still hurts. Sirius had gone to a funeral with an empty coffin because they couldn't find a body. Sirius had screamed at James for not even attending, he yelled at Lily just as loud. He’s still mad, even after all these years. James and Lily never mention Harry, almost like he never existed at all. Sirius would almost believe it if not for the picture he keeps in a drawer by his bedside.

Rather than dwell on these thoughts, Sirius plans on what to get Juliette for her birthday. She has everything she could ever want which can make getting her anything difficult. He tries though, for her sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet my son, Sirius Orion Black, who has been officially cleared of all guilt concerning Harry because I love him.
> 
> On that note, here's a super short chapter to start us off on updates again- we'll head back to normal length chapters next week.
> 
> See you next week!


	15. Making Up Excuses and Having Fun at the Same Time by Hadrian Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time: Sirius Black is innocent again and I'm a lying liar who lies

Hadrien Regulus Black-Malfoy, formerly Harry James Potter, is probably more excited than he’s ever been in his entire life. It’s September first which means his first year at Hogwarts. 

The Malfoys all arrive at King’s Cross an hour before the train is scheduled to leave (“I refuse to allow any child of mine to be forced to _search_ for a seat,” Lucius had sniffed). Cissa helps both boys load their suitcases into the compartment and then proceeds to drag them both back onto the platform for goodbyes.

“I’m going to miss you both.” She hugs Harry and Draco close. “Make sure you shower regularly and do your homework. Oh, and remember to brush your hair,” a pointed look at Harry, “and behave! I don’t want any owls from Severus about either of you getting in trouble or you will be in so much trouble-”

“I think they understand, Cissa.” Draco gives an exaggerated sigh of relief at Lucius’ interruption. “We have to be at the Ministry in a couple of minutes and I’d rather not be late. Finish up your goodbyes.”

“Oh, fine.” Cissa hugs them both again and then holds them away to look in their eyes. “I meant what I said. I better not receive _any_ negative letters from Severus. At all.” Her stern glare combined with her scolding voice make Harry determined not to break any rules (or at least not get caught doing so). 

“I promise.” He gives his most angelic smile and hears Regulus laugh at her suspicious look. 

“Cissa!”

“Coming, Lucius! Bye kids, be good.”

They wait until both of the older Malfoys leave before getting back into their compartment. The wait is pretty boring, not many families bothered to show up so early and those that did generally kept to themselves. 

The sound of the door sliding open brings Draco and Harry from their conversation about the Hogwarts houses. 

“Hello?” The boy who stands in the entrance is taller than Harry (but so is everybody else, to be fair) with dark hair and skin. He’s posed in an attempt to look confident but he really just looks nervous. Harry is interrupted as he’s about to answer by Regulus.

“What is this? Not okay, that’s what it is. He’s adorable. He’s my child now.” Said ghost continuously flails his arms around and gestures wildly at the child before him. Harry raises an eyebrow questioningly.

Draco seems to catch on to the fact that Harry’s being distracted by Regulus and takes the lead in the conversation. “I’m Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. This is my brother,” Draco straightens his back proudly at that, “Hadrien. You are?”

“Blaise Zabini.” He pushes himself away from the doorway. “May I sit with you?”

Harry stops Draco from growling some kind of rejection (he’s far too protective of Harry and wary of strangers) by responding himself. “Of course.” He smiles. “I’d like that.”

Blaise nods almost imperceptibly and takes a seat across from Harry. Regulus continues squealing in the background about how adorable they all look in their uniforms getting ready to go to Hogwarts for the first time (personally, Harry thinks it sounds like the girls at school when they talked behind his back but he’s not about to say that out loud). It makes it kind of difficult to focus on whatever Draco is saying to him but he tries his best. 

Eventually, the train starts moving towards Hogwarts. Conversation stills for a moment (not counting Regulus’ screaming) as they all think about the school year ahead. Right as Blaise opens his mouth to break the silence, the door slides open again.

A girl with bushy hair, buck teeth, and a loud voice stands in the open doorway. “Have any of you seen a toad? Neville’s lost one.”

Draco scrunches his nose in what appears to be disgust and even Regulus stops his excited ranting to stare in disbelief. “Who brings a _toad_?” 

The girl looks over the three of them disapprovingly. “Neville does. Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” Harry says, “Draco’s just afraid of toads.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know-”

“I _am not_!”

“Well, it’s nothing to be ashamed of! Everybody’s afraid of something and toads can be pretty dangerous, did you know-”

Harry nods knowingly. “He probably does. He knows everything about toads because he has to know how to combat them.”

“Understandable.” She nods and then pats Draco gently. “Nothing to be ashamed of. I’ll leave you alone.”

“HARRY!” Draco shouts as soon as the door closes, “What was that? I’m not afraid of toads, why would you-”

“Because it was funny.” Harry smiles goofily at Draco and then winks at Blaise. “He’s not actually afraid of toads. Maybe.”

“HARRY!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about how late this is. Wifi has been cutting in and out so Google Drive is unavailable for writing. Also, my aunt's work schedule has been all over the place meaning I have to babysit a lot more often until a lot later than usual. Her schedule isn't as bad this week though so I'll do my best with updating.
> 
> Still not quite at a thousand words but Harry's a little shit so hopefully I'm forgiven.


	16. Being a Child is the Worst if You're New to Existing by Hadrian Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Time: Draco is afraid of toads and Regulus gushes over Blaise

Harry takes a shaky breath as the Hogwarts Express pulls to a stop. Regulus stops gushing over the three of them to send a sympathetic look in his direction. He hadn’t been this nervous getting _on_ the train, he’d even been excited. But… this school. Despite Draco and Regulus being here for him, Harry is afraid it’ll end up being like going to school with Dudley. 

Rather than dwell on these thoughts, though, Harry follows Draco and Blaise to the platform. 

“FIRS’ YEARS! FIRS’ YEARS OVER HERE!” A giant of a man stands, swinging a lantern over the top of his head erratically.

Regulus huffs a laugh at the man’s appearance. “I can’t believe Hagrid still works here,” he says, smiling. “Hagrid’s the groundskeeper. He’s… not the smartest, I suppose, but he knows his animals.”

Harry, still gripping tightly to Draco’s sleeve, just nods and follows said groundskeeper toward the edge of a lake. His nerves lie forgotten behind him as soon as he sees the view.

A huge castle sits atop a hill of perfectly clean grass. Its lights are bright but not in the way artificial lights are, they feel warm and homey. Welcoming. The lake itself, despite the dark sky above, lets off its own glow, this one more ominous than welcoming. Still beautiful, of course. It’s enough to take Harry’s breath away.

A hand lands gently on his shoulder. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Regulus asks, “it never gets old, either.”

Another, different hand pulls Harry back by the shoulder when he almost accidentally steps into the water. Draco, the hands exasperated owner, huffs at his new brother. “You’re going to- what’s up with your eyes?”

Harry blinks and tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“They’re… glowing.”

“Oh. I don’t know.” Harry shrugs and then turns back to the groundskeeper, much to Draco’s annoyance.

“No more ‘n four to a boat.”

Harry drags both Draco and Blaise towards the nearest boat. The bushy haired girl from the train joins them.

“I never introduced myself, I’m Hermione Granger.”

“Granger?” Draco sniffs the same way Grandmother does when she wants you to know she disapproves of your whole existence (the one usually reserved for Lucius). “That doesn’t _sound_ like a-”

“What Draco means to say,” Harry interrupts, “is that your name doesn’t sound as toady as he thought it would.”

“Toady’s not a word-”

“It is to Draco.”

Blaise is watching the conversation in amusement, while Draco turns away in annoyance.

“I AM NOT-”

“GOING TO ADMIT TO YOUR FEAR OF TOADS!”

Draco and Harry stare each other down, Harry trying to tell Draco to stop almost offending people without actually saying it out loud. Rather than argue, Draco huffs and looks away.

Satisfied for the moment, Harry turns back to watch the rapidly approaching castle. The closer he gets, the more… fake it looks. Not in a bad way, more like it shouldn’t be real if only because of its otherworldly glow. 

As they pull up to the shore, Hagrid reaches down to scoop something up. Hermione squeaks and covers Draco’s eyes.

“What are you-”

“This yours?” Hagrid holds up a toad and Harry has to fight the urge to laugh.

“Trevor!” A nervous looking boy (Neville, Harry assumes) runs towards Hagrid’s outstretched arm.

“Keep better track o’ ‘im.” Hagrid smiles gently and hands the toad back to his owner.

“Sorry, Draco,” Hermione says, patting his arm, “there was a toad and I wasn’t sure if you were okay seeing it.”

“He can look at toads,” Harry cuts in before Draco can say something scathing, “he just can’t touch them.”

Hermione nods and apologizes again for slapping her hand over his face. Rather than be upset over it, Draco just huffs and accepts her apology.

Together the four (five if you count Regulus) make their way to the doors of the castle. 

A stern woman, very catlike in her appearance, opens the doors with a dramatic flourish and looks down at each of them. “Follow me.” She says. Simple and to the point.

The back room they’re all lead to is darker than the hallway and nowhere near as welcoming. Harry feels even more nervous than before as the woman gives them all a stern look over. 

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” her voice is sharp, but it softens when she catches the scared looks on the children’s faces, “my name is Professor McGonagall. The sorting ceremony is due to begin shortly, I recommend you prepare yourselves.” The woman, Professor McGonagall, walks out the door without a back glance. 

“It’s an intimidation thing,” Regulus says, “she’s actually pretty nice.”

This doesn’t really make Harry feel any better but it was a good effort. The sudden sound of screams makes him feel even less confident as he turns around ready to face- ghosts?

“Ah!” One of the ghosts says, “first years, eh? I hope to see you in Hufflepuff. That’s the best house you know.”

“As _if_ , Friar,” a ghost in a ruff speaks in mock-offense, “Gryffindor is the only _good_ house.”

Another ghost, covered in what appears to be blood, laughs at them both. “Slytherin beats you both! Ha!”

“Ridiculous! Gryffindor is obviously-”

“Nowhere near as good as Hufflepuff!”

The students all begin to relax as the ghosts banter back and forth, each throwing out more accusations than the last. 

The fun does have to end eventually, though. And it does. Professor McGonagall enters the room with an unamused look on her face, but a fond eye roll gives her away. ‘“Come with me,” she says.

She leads them into a large room. This, in and of itself, isn’t particularly interesting. The decor, however, _is_. Candles dance together in the air, brushing against one another and giving the room a warm glow. Four tables sit in rows with older students seated at them. Each table has banners running along its edges, two colors per table. At the end of the tables stand banners. A banner with a gold lion on it stands proud and slightly tattered at the end of the matching red and gold table, the words Gryffindor written in sharp letters near the bottom. The next is a bronze eagle, its banner stands untarnished and dignified at the end of its table, the word Ravenclaw written elegantly along the bottom. A black badger lies guarding at the edge of its table, worn by time but lovingly repaired, the word Hufflepuff written loosely near the banner’s top. 

It’s the final banner, though, that really catches his attention. It stands proudly like the lion but dignified like the eagle, the snake wrapped loosely around one dramatically written word: Slytherin.

As Harry admires the banners, Professor McGonagall sets a tattered hat onto a stool at the front of the room. The hat rips itself open and begins to sing.

“Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowler's black-  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave of heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw  
If you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your true friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!”

There’s applause and thus begins the sorting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I really don't have an excuse this time. Like, at all. But I'm back and that's what counts, right?
> 
> I'm determined to finish this story, so, no matter the time between updates, there will always be a future update.
> 
> Thank you guys so much for being patient and encouraging throughout all of this!
> 
> Until next time!


	17. Getting Mad at Your Lying Friends and Other Fun Games by SOB (Son Of a Bitch)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Time: Draco's fear of toads escalates and Hermione is trying her bestest

Sirius Black turns to watch as Minerva calls the students up to be sorted. Lily Potter is seated next to him, smiling encouragingly at all the new students.

“Abbott, Hannah!” is called up first and sits nervously on the stool. _A Hufflepuff for sure_ , he thinks, and he’s right. The blonde girl stumbles away to the Hufflepuff table, smiling shyly, to be welcomed excitedly by her new housemates.

Susan Bones (Amelia’s niece if he recalls correctly) is also sorted into Hufflepuff. It’s both a surprise and not- the Bones family has always been fearless in the face of danger but they value loyalty and hard work far more than they do bravery and honor.

Terry Boot and Mandy Brocklehurst are sent to a quietly applauding Ravenclaw.

Directly after comes the first Gryffindor of the year- Lavender Brown. She looks a bit too uppity for a Gryffindor, but he and James had been the same way so he isn’t too bothered by it.

First Slytherin of the year was Millicent Bulstrode. Her parents were the absolute _worst_ when they were in school together. Of course, that just meant they were a match made in heaven. 

Finch-Fletchley is a pureblood name- descendants of Helga Hufflepuff herself if memory serves. That’s where the Justin kid goes actually, nose stuck in the air like a prince looking down on everybody.

Sirius turns to Lily suddenly. She’s been quieter than usual this sorting and he’s getting kind of worried. “You okay, Lils?”

“I’m fine.” She smiles. “I just can’t wait for Juliette's sorting, is all.”

Oh. He had forgotten about that. “I’m sure she’ll be in Gryffindor, just like her parents,” he laughs.

Lily laughs right back, albeit a bit nervously. “I’m not worried about that,” she says.

“What _are_ you worried about, then?”

“Nothing important, really-”

“Potter, Harry!”

Every adult in the hall freezes.

Sirius knocks his chair over when he stands. “ _What?_ ”  
The boy- Harry, he corrects himself- blinks at him confusedly and then turns to Minerva. “You got my name wrong,” he says, walking up to the stool.

Minerva, barely recovered from the shock of another- dead- Potter appearing, stutters out a quiet “oh?” to the child.

He just nods and tugs her down to whisper in her ear. Whatever he says shocks her even more than it originally did because she almost drops the call sheet.

“Of course,” her voice is strong once again and she continues as if nothing happened (the way only Minerva can), “well, sit down so we can get you sorted.”

Sirius sits down as well but continues to stare at the child on the stool. He doesn’t look much like a Potter. If he’s being completely honest, the boy looks more like a Black than anything else. Gray eyes and smooth black hair make for a compelling argument in that case. He even has Regulus’ freckles (they skip a generation- Regulus had them and Father had them and Great Grandfather had them and so on). There’s no way this kid is Harry Potter, right? It just wouldn’t make _sense_. Unless- no. It’s better not to get his hopes up.

The boy who looks like Regulus goes to Slytherin after almost twenty minutes of speaking with the hat. Sirius can’t pay attention to any of the other students after that- not Juliette, not any of the Gryffindors, not any of his friend’s children, none of them. All he can do is stare at this child who looks so much like his family and so much like his brother that he can’t breathe.

Lily hadn’t reacted much at all when the name had been called, almost like hearing the name of her dead son was a regular and expected occurrence.

Dumbledore (despite not being a student anymore, Sirius still can’t bring himself to call the man by his first name) stands up when the sorting is finished and says a few words. The feast starts up afterward and the children yell excitedly at both old friends and new.

“Sirius,” Lily says, touching his shoulder, “I can explain.”

“Explain _what_ exactly?” he snaps, “How you’re dead son is still alive?”

“Well,” she says, “he wasn’t ever dead.”

“I figured as much.”

Lily flinches at his tone but continues on, “Dumbledore said we couldn’t keep him, Sirius. So we sent him to Petunia-”

“You did _what_ -”

Dumbledore takes this moment to interrupt their conversation. “Sirius,” he says, eyes twinkling, “we’ll speak of this later.”

Sirius personally doesn’t want to wait until “later.” What he wants is to know why in the hell his godson was here and _alive_. Instead of voicing this, he huffs angrily at the two of them. “Fine.”

They _will_ be talking about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet y'all weren't expecting _that_! the reasoning for the whole "Harry Potter" scene was actually because, while the Malfoys have money, they don't have the money to completely speed up the adoption process and so Harry's name hasn't been updated in the Hogwarts attendance book.
> 
> uhhhhhhhh that's it i think but also maybe not. lemme know if i forgot anything


End file.
